Losses and Gains
by KhamomealTea
Summary: Sinbad gave up a lot in the creation of Sindria, how much though no one can be sure. Drama fic about the creation of Sindria the the sacrifices that were made for it. SinJa Takes place between (what is current Sinbad no Bouken) Ch 32ish and Magi


Chapter 1

The sun rose slowly, its rays dripping like wax farther onto the scenery. It was such a slow

morning. He sighed, knowing it was sure to be an even longer day. He smoothly dipped his nib

into the ink bottle and continued to write the day's list of priorities for his King. He was keeping it

light for him today. However, that was also why he himself was up so early.

He preferred to keep busy on days like today while Sin preferred to spend it honoring the

memory. Sighing deeply, he shook his head. He did not care to remember this particular death.

It hurt too much. Every year the weight bore down even heavier on this day, the anniversary of

her death; the loss that had changed everything so much.

He finished up the list and placed it on top of the pile that was Sin's work for the day.

"Tea," he mumbled to himself as he got up to make some more. He had probably drank the first

pot of the morning a little too fast. Still, he shrugged, he already felt so tired.

As he reached the bell to call the servants he found a pot already waiting for him. The scent

of jasmine floated into his nostrils. He sighed and poured himself a fresh cup. He needed to

make sure to thank the new girl. She had become so attentive and accommodating over the last

months.

Heading back to his desk, he continued his work; the hot liquid quickly filled up his insides and

for a moment helped relax the knot in the pit of his stomach. It returned too soon. This is why he

knew he needed to make sure he focused completely on work.

A few hours later he paused from his writing. He scowled at the sun as he looked up. It

shouldn't be allowed to shine so brightly. It would be much better if it were raining today. Then,

at least, the weight of the air would be appropriate.

"Scowling already?" a jovial voice called as his King walked through the entryway.

Smiling big Sin sat down over at his desk quickly propping his feet up on the edge of it.

"Good morning!" he jested happily; but Ja'far knew better. The overextension of his smile, the

lack of enthusiasm. . . . . . the bags under his eyes.

"Don't," Ja'far simply stated and quickly gathered up the stack of his King's work and delivered it

to him. "Don't try and pretend that today is not. . . . . . . . . today" he finished quietly.

There was no reaction from his King, but that was to be expected. This dance had been danced

for about a decade now. After he set the papers down on the desk he slowly brought his hand to

rest on Sin's shoulder. Sin's warm hand immediately reached up and lightly squeezed it; a warm

reassurance of each other's presence. Ja'far closed his eyes, letting go of a deep breath. Sin's

hands were always so warm. Without warning he was pulled down and he unceremoniously

ended up on his King's lap. Without skipping a heartbeat Sin's lips found his own.

He knew he should retaliate, it was too early for this; but then today was special in a lot of ways.

He supposed his annoyance with everything so far today made him more willing to give into his

King. Just this once though, he couldn't let his King think he approved of any of his bad habits.

The kiss wasn't a passionate one as Sin slowly caressed his lips with his own. The knot in his

stomach was rushed away with a feeling of heat pooling inside him. God did he love this man.

The slow kiss came to an end. Knowing if he did not get away now things would get out of hand,

Ja'far stood up, gently sharing a soft gaze with Sin's brilliant gold eyes. His sin.

Sighing, he broke the moment and headed back to his desk. He tried not to look up and focus

back on work but eventually his gray eyes wandered back on to Sin. He hadn't moved at all,

hands set on his knees looking towards the ground. It was hard to see him looking so defeated.

It didn't suit him and it was to Ja'far's relief that after only a few minutes more he sat up and

rolled his shoulders back.

"I guess it's time to get to work!" he said as he smiled his bright grin. It fooled noone since Ja'far

was the only one there.

They continued through the day as if it were any other day. Around noon Sin finished his work

and quickly opened up a bottle of wine. Ja'far kept his head down, determined to finish double

his normal workload today. Still no matter how much work there was, the hours ticked ever so

slowly by. Still no matter how slowl it seemed, the day came to an end far too soon as he glared

at the now disappearing sun. It was time.

Sin stood up and without a word or a look headed out and down the hall. Ja'far knew where he

was going. It was the place he himself had to go. Nor was he surprised to find Sin waiting for

him in the hall after he silently put his work away and headed out of the chamber. They walked

silently next to each other, hands brushing ever so lightly against each other's, feet in unison.

He couldn't help but eventually wind his pinkie finger with Sin's. They finished the walk that way,

never saying a word.

The gravesite was a pair of stone wings emerging from the ground. A pair of smaller ones inset

into the main shape of them. Still that damn sunlight had refused to leave, its fading rays casting

a red hue on the whole scene. Ja'far scowled again at it. Why did the sun have to be such a

bitch? Sin took no time placing a traditional bouquet of amaranth, asphodel, and wormwood in

a vase located in the center of the wings. There was no name and no explanation. Many had

no clue it was even a grave. This was too private, because not only were the bodies here far

too precious, they were buried with a huge chunk or Sin's heart. The part that, he had come to

believe, had allowed Sin to fall so far and become such a manipulator.

Ja'far stared at the strong back that was bent kneeling in front of him. He supposed it was

normal after all that had happened, but the fact Sin kept collecting people of influence and

power like they were coin instead of beings bothered him. The knot in his chest came back. In

the end, they were still people no matter the political influence, money, magoi, or knowledge

they contained. People as far as he was concerned. However for Sin . .. . . . sighing he

acknowledged yet again, that for Sin, they were mere tools. Some he did care about, but many

more were as replaceable as a ship's ore.

She would have been able to stop him, would have made sure he never saw people that way.

But then again, she had. . . Ja'fars thoughts froze. The anger of that night. . .the words he could

never take back. Ja'far couldn't help but choke on the tears that had started to fall. The sight of

her bleeding like a spilled dropped from Sin's arms.

I never. . . . .

It was his fault entirely.

The evening gong chimed and lurched him out of his thoughts. The time had passed so quickly

without him realizing; it was due to the past flooding into his memory. A shuffle in front of him

brought his bloodshot eyes forward to see Sin standing up. He turned to stare at him, his own

golden eyes moist but frozen. The sun had finally let go of the day and the pale light of the

moon surrounded them. His own tears had stopped but he had not yet wiped away their stains

off his cheeks. He knew he must look a mess and quickly bowed his head.

A warm hand took his and started to lead him away from the tragic place. His head was finally

drowning in the flood he had held back all day. It was the only day each year where he even

gave it a remote chance of overpowering him. It was all his fault.

Sin's lips reached his own the second they were in the king's chamber. Needy and relentless,

he could feel Sin taking all his anger from helplessness and his inability to protect them seething

out in a deep, powerful passion. He could barely breathe as Sin's tongue delved further into his

mouth, locking their lips together.

Finally releasing him, Sin nipped roughly at his lower lip and down his neck, planting a bruising

bite on his lower neck. Flexing his fingers from the pain, Ja'far felt his heart beat faster; the

harsh bites and rough hands let him know just how alive he felt, just how real this moment was.

Sin stopped just long enough to undress his advisor, stripping his pale body nude very quickly

from much practice. Practice that should have never been needed, he thought, as tears

reforming in his eyes. Those were the times when Sin should have been with her. Sin's face

scrunched in anger as he looked into Ja'fars face, knowing all too well where his thoughts were.

With little affection he once again latched onto his lover's neck, his hands circling around his

waist to grab the pale defenseless curves of his ass. Ja'far linked his arms around Sin's neck,

grabbing onto the still clothed back of his King.

"Sorry," he whispered quietly into the mass of purple hair.

"Shut up and stop. . . " his King's voice trailed off while littering the pale skin with rough kisses

and nips.

"Will you ever stop with this foolishness?" he continued.

Not waiting for an answer he was lifted up. Sin walked them over to the bed and toppled on

top of him. Leaning back he gazed at Ja'far for a moment. His eyes were so cold yet still full of

passion. Unwillingly Ja'far scrunched his own eyes, feeling the tears fall faster down his cheeks.

He must look a mess, but at this moment he could not bring himself to care.

How could he ever be forgiven for such a thing?

He felt Sin stand up off the bed, it springing up slightly from being released of the extra weight.

Opening his gray eyes slowly he caught Sin as he finished removing his own garments, followed

by his metal vessels, which he dropped onto the floor. The metal clanged loudly on the marble

floor as they unceremoniously fell from his fingertips. Discarded like junk.

As he should be.

Sin leaned down and started licking the pale man's chest, savoring a nipple. Letting out a soft

moan Ja'far tangled his arms around that strong neck, leaning his own head back. Sin's lips

attacked his chest, slipping over a nipple with ruthless sucks and bites, their hips grinding

against each other. His head was whirling, clouded with a mess of contrasting emotions, as he

pressed his body towards Sin. His fingers threaded into his hair.

'Let me know you still need me,' he silently asked with his body. 'Prove it again and again that I

need to stay here.'

That I'm not just being selfish.

His breath hitched as a finger delved into him with little warning, his own fingers twisting deeper

into the purple mass of hair.

"Sin, please. . . ." he gasped. However his King was not in the mood to be gentle and Ja'far

found his lips attacked again as another finger was inserted, scissoring the tight flesh.

Letting go of their kiss Sin's head dropped next to his ear, "I am the one to blame, how many

times do we have to go over this?"

At that he felt the hard length of Sin skillfully slide in, taking no care or kindness as he thrusted

all the way in.

"Sin ngaahh. . . " he shrieked as his back arched, his body not completely prepared. He grabbed

even more tightly onto that strong back.

As they began to rock together the tears streamed faster down the freckles of his cheeks. No

matter his guilt or how many years passed it boiled down to a simple truth. Her death had gotten

him what he wanted.

"Gahh Sin. . . Sin," he gasped as his king slapped their hips together. God how he needed him.

He deserved to die.

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AN/ Hi there anyone taking the time to read this. First and foremost let me say thanks!

Secondly and more importantly, I HATE OCs. . . and of course here I am with one that is

MAJOR. So forgive me. I plan to make her as likable as I can and I will not ever write from

her perspective (she is not me trying to insert a version of myself into the story lol). She is a

necessary plot point for some of the drama I want to create between Sin and Ja'far.

Critiques are welcome but be nice. This is for fun and angry reviewers telling me how OOC I

can get is what killed my motivation last time I wrote. . . which is way way too long ago. . . .


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